September 01, 2004

Being poor was not such a drag in hindsight

She wonders why it seems so different for her-
for it does seem unlike what the others always say it is.
It does not seem as natural when she tries it. No matter what she does,
she totters and wobbles like a newborn giraffe until she collapses in a frustrated heap.
It does not seem so easy, as she is always told it is.
Someone always wonderingWhat it is that happened to her.

She made it one week
- making out like a teenager -
the teenager she never really got to be, when she thought about it.
She made it one week, after what seemed like her whole life, or more,
one week before everything shut back down.

So much of what she is
is being only with herself, and decorating her world in a way that she can bear to look at it every day. Reality is not necessarily her first priority, lets just say.

She thinks to herself:If I can get through having someone put their hands on me,
for one week every three years or so,
then maybe in six years I'll be able to do two weeks.
In nine years, three weeks.
And so on, until I shortly die.

These somewhat dismal numbers don't please her much.
There's a moment where her breath catches in her throat,
and she wishes it was another way.
But a man can't change who he is, so they say, and she knows it.
And while he leans down to her she looks only forward now.
No matter what she wants. It's already over.

ps. see Garden State if you do anything.
It rocks more than I can even say.

Talk to the one that made you
Talk to the one that understands
Talk to the one who gave you all the light in your eyes.

Posted by kati at September 1, 2004 12:45 AM

Comments

nod to the writing. hope you are more ok than you seem here. there will soon be a sofa bed and clean sheets waiting at our house whenever you want a change of scenery.